Creature of the Night
by Knowing Grace
Summary: And it was all just a dream until I looked down at the fresh scar on my forearm. A scar that even magic could not fix... A Pre-Marauders story about Remus Lupin.


**Hello, everyone! I suprised even myself with this small piece of literature for it seemed to come out of nowhere. Before you read this, I have a few things to say. First of all, I have only read the Harry Potter books through once so I may have missed some important details-please be gentle with me. Two, I think Remus is supposed to have green eyes-I could be wrong-but I thought it would be best if he had brown ones for this tale. Thirdly, since his parents names are unknown, I went ahead and gave his(Remus) father Remus' middle name (seeing as how J.K. Rowling gave a lot of her characters their parent's first names as middle names). His mother's name in this story is Maire which is pronounced: Moy-rah (alternate spelling of Moira), in case anyone is interested. And fourthly (is that even a word?), I hope you enjoy this little one shot. Feel free to send me a review-I crave them-and let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I am, obviously, not J.K. Rowling and I am not making any money off of this story. I don't own the characters, just the plot.**

**Now, without further ado...**

**~Knowing Grace**

* * *

**_Creature of the Night_**

And it was all just a dream until I looked down at the fresh scar on my forearm. A scar that even magic could not fix. It did not look like much, just eight, white smudges where the creature's teeth had broken my skin. Maybe, if I was naïve enough, I could just close my eyes and it would disappear. But I wasn't innocent, not anymore. My eyes had been opened in the worst possible way to the fact that there are monsters in the world and that I was now considered one of them.

I rolled over in bed and sat up, trying my best to hold in the groan that threatened to escape my lips—I didn't want to wake up my parents. They had already gotten very little rest the night before and I was loathe to disturb their slumber. My father, who's head and upper torso was resting on the mattress near my feet, muttered something unintelligible when I moved, but then he fell silent again. Mum was leaning back in a chair and I grimaced at the position of her neck, she would have a frightful crick in it when she woke up, but there was nothing I could do about that for her now. As silently as I could, I slipped off of the bed and padded across the room to the lavatory. I closed the door softly behind me and flicked the light on.

I nearly screamed in terror when I came face to face with myself, but I calmed down a second later when I realized that I was gazing into a mirror. At first, I did not want to see what I looked like now that I was no longer considered human; then I tentatively stepped closer until my nose was almost pressed against the glass. What I saw was an ordinary boy. True, I was much paler than I had been just yesterday afternoon, but I had always had fair skin—preferring the company of books to that of people. Staring closely, I could see a slight difference in my eyes, they had a more slanted look to them and they were more of a golden colour rather than the light brown I had been born with. I scanned the rest of my face inch by careful inch, but found that nothing else had changed. And yet, at the same time, it had. I was no longer the same nine-year-old child who had run about the garden with my best friend only the day before. Now, I was a savage creature that would have no qualms about biting the hand that fed me.

I turned my head and quickly used the facilities before going back to bed. The instant I left the tiny washroom, my parents—who had awakened to find me gone—converged on me, hugging me tightly as if they were afraid that I would blow away on the wind if they let go. Oh, how I wished that I could do just that.

My mother finally uttered something coherent.

"Oh, honey, you shouldn't be out of bed yet." She said, touching my face gently with the tips of her fingers.

"Come on, let's get you settled."

"Yes, Mum." I replied, keeping my eyes downcast so I wouldn't see the sadness in her gaze. She hefted me up onto the mattress with little effort and began to tuck me in—smoothing invisible wrinkles from the covers once she was done.

At that moment, a man dressed in long white robes entered the hospital room. I vaguely remembered seeing him the night before, but the memory of him was wreathed in the haze of the fever I had been trying to fight off at the time. He conjured a clipboard seemingly out of thin air and then smiled down at me. He looked to be about the same age as my father, but his hair was already turning a premature grey, most likely from the stress of his job.

"Hullo, Remus. How are you feeling this morning?" I could feel my face turning a deep crimson, I had never liked being the center of attention.

"Um...I'm alright, I guess." I mumbled. The physician suddenly reached down to touch my forehead, but the movement scared me and the next thing I knew, I was across the room with my back pressed into the corner. I shocked myself with the speed of my movements, but when I looked up at the healer he remained unfazed.

"Whoa, there, child! Those are some reflexes you've got there—most likely from the bite. Forgive me if I frightened you, I was just going to check and see if your fever has truly gone." I hung my head.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. A large hand gently patted me on the shoulder and the doctor knelt down in front of me so we were both at eye level.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, lad; none of this is your fault." He replied, kindly. Then he returned to the task at hand.

"Now, young man, let's see how that wound is getting along." He picked up my left arm and examined the site of the animal bite.

"Well, it seems that this has healed up quite nicely, I'm sorry to say that I cannot give you anything to make the mark go away—there is no potion that can remove the traces of a wound from a..." He trailed off when my mother gasped. She reached over and clutched at my father's arm and he pulled her into a hug. The doctor, who's name I finally remembered to be August Foster, touched my forehead with the back of his hand.

"Good! Your temperature seems to be back to normal." He went on to check my pulse and then poked and prodded at me until I thought I would go mad. I watched him work silently for a while, but soon I gave in and asked him the one question that had been growing on my mind.

"Sir, when can I go home?" I queried, my voice sounding small even to my own ears, which were now much sharper than they ever had been before. Dr. Foster sat back on his haunches and rubbed his cheek thoughtfully.

"Hmm...Well, Remus, I think we can get you discharged by this afternoon. There really isn't anything else I can do for you, but if you start to feel any ill effects or if your fever comes back, don't hesitated to tell your parents. They can contact me here at St. Mungo's at anytime, day or night." He stood and gave me another smile then turned to my parents.

"May I speak with both of you in private for a moment?" He asked. My father nodded and led my mother out into the hall, closing the door behind them. They tried to speak as quietly as possible, but my now altered hearing allowed me to catch every word of their whispered conversation.

_"Doctor, is there anything we can do?" _My father inquired.

_ "I'm so very sorry, Mr. Lupin, but there is no cure for-"_

_ "But there must be something, surely! I can't just sit back and watch my child turn into...into..." _My mother couldn't finish the sentence and I grimaced. I heard the physician sigh and could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off an impending headache.

_"It's not that simple, Mrs. Lupin. Many excellent healers and potion masters have tried to create some kind of cure for lycanthropy, but so far no one has been successful. However, that does not mean you should give up; your son is going to need all the strength that both of you can give him._

_ I, myself, know very little about these things, but I will notify Healer Cedric Hemming and see if he will have time to talk to you. He has had to deal with his younger brother, Adolfus, who also has a 'fuzzy little problem' as he calls it. He'll know much more than me and he can answer your questions and prepare you for what's to come." _My mother started to weep and the sound ripped my heart in two. I hated to be the cause of my parents grief. I knew that my father blamed himself for what had happened, but I couldn't find it in myself to hate him for my condition.

Healer Foster spoke up again, but I ignored his words, made my way over to the hospital bed and flopped down on it—not bothering to slide under the covers.

I really wished that this hadn't happened to me, but now that it had, I would rather just learn to live with it rather than traipse around the world in search of a cure as my parents were sure to do. I had heard that the transformation was agonizing. At least I had a high tolerance for pain; I hadn't even cried out when the wolf had bitten me, although it had hurt worse than anything else I had experienced.

I heard the door creak as it opened and I quickly closed my eyes and forced myself to breath deeply as if I were asleep. Something draped over my body and I realized that someone had wrapped a blanket around me. The mattress dipped as that person sat down on the side of my bed. Soft fingers combed through my hair and I lay perfectly still, drinking in the scent of sunshine, lavender and freshly baked bread.

"Oh, John, what are we going to do?" My mother asked my father quietly so as not to disturb me.

"I don't know, Maire. I'll have a few of my close friends at the Ministry inquire discreetly about any possible cures and we'll go from there. It's the only thing that we can do for him right now." His breath hitched and I could tell that he was fighting back tears.

"I just wish that I could have done something to prevent this; I-I shouldn't have insulted Greyback like that, but I didn't think he was serious when he threatened Remus..." My mother rose from the bed and went to my father's side.

"This isn't your fault, John, I'm sure our son doesn't blame you for this and neither do I. If you must lay blame on someone then blame Fenrir; that monster should have been locked up or done away with long before this." Muffled sobs escaped from my father and I felt tears pricking in my own eyes; I had never heard him cry before and it wasn't something I ever wanted to witness again.

"Shh! Honey, you'll wake Remus up." My mother crooned. The weeping quieted until there was only an occasional sniffle coming from the man.

"Come on, Love, let's go find this Healer Hemming that Dr. Foster was telling us about." I heard movement and then soft lips brushed my cheek.

"Sweet dreams, my son, we'll be back in a little while." She whispered and then they left the room.

I let the tears fall the minute they had departed.

My mother couldn't have been more wrong. Never again would I have good dreams or, at least, dreams that would ever come true. I was living in a nightmare, one that I would never be able to awaken from. I was a monster, a creature of the night, a beast that parents told their children to stay away from lest they be bitten and turn into one themselves. For the first time in my life, I hated myself for now I was an outcast. I would never get married or have any children of my own—it was against the wizarding laws for people like me to do so. It would be nearly impossible for me to get a job, let alone be allowed to go to school at Hogwarts with ordinary kids. I was no longer normal, considered by all to be little more than an animal.

I rolled over in bed and sobbed, letting the pillowcase soak up my bitter tears. From this day forward, I would never be the same. I was now Remus John Lupin. The werewolf. And the full moon would haunt me till my dying day.

~Finis


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